


Satellites

by deepestbluest



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Universe, Getting Back Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23722315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestbluest/pseuds/deepestbluest
Summary: Iruka looks up at the ceiling. “Do you know what happens in a few days?”Kakashi swallows. The date is engraved in his memory. “It will be one year since we broke up.”
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 22
Kudos: 254





	Satellites

Naruto is waiting for Kakashi outside the Academy.

It's only been a few years since Team 7 was assigned to Kakashi and fell apart. It feels like far longer, but time distorts itself in lives like theirs.

Aside from the more frequent flash of human anger, Naruto looks largely unchanged. His cheeks are still baby-round and lined as if to mark him out to civilians as well as shinobi as the Nine Tails’ jinchuuriki, and he has the loud, impetuous voice of a kid who's barely a teenager.

He hasn't outgrown his fondness for orange. If Guy had made one of his jumpsuits in that color, Naruto might have been seriously tempted to try it.

The real changes to Naruto are internal. He knows what betrayal feels like now, and the naïveté that used to shroud him has begun to dissipate. In its place is a growing, desperate determination to drag Sasuke back to his side.

Kakashi should have thought to prepare him for this. Even if it hadn't worked, even if Sasuke hadn't turned traitor, Naruto was always going to get hurt by someone.

It's a wonder Naruto and Sakura don't resent KakashI.

Sakura is around most of the time now; she's training hard with Tsunade and is too important to risk in needless combat, but Naruto frequently comes and goes.

Seeing him is both a reward and an uncomfortable reminder after the discomfort that follows Kakashi’s required visits to the Missions Desk. It wasn't so bad this time because Iruka wasn't there, but his friends there know something happened between Iruka and Kakashi. The knowledge Kakashi had something to do with Iruka’s change in disposition is clear on their faces.

Hopping up before Kakashi can say anything, Naruto calls his name. He's got one of his biggest smiles on, and Kakashi’s chest grows too tight. He used to see that smile every day when Team 7 was a united front.

He'd thought he might start seeing it more often again.

“Back so soon?” Kakashi asks.

Naruto puffs out his cheeks in a pout. “Sensei, we were gone for two weeks!”

“Ah, is that why the village has been so quiet?” Kakashi asks, voice deliberately surprised.

He expects Naruto to object, thus continuing the game, but Naruto deflates instead.

“It's been really quiet, yeah.” He glances down for a moment before straightening up and meeting Kakashi’s eyes.

Every instinct tells Kakashi this isn't going anywhere good.

“Hey, Kakashi-sensei,” Naruto begins, voice light the way it gets when he wants something. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

The answer is clear- no. For the sake of self-preservation, the answer has to be no.

“You can always ask, yeah,” Kakashi hedges.

Naruto’s expression slips for a moment, and the fear on his face only makes the yelling in Kakashi’s head grow louder.

Drawing a breath, Naruto asks, “Will you look in on Iruka-sensei for me?”

Kakashi freezes.

Of all the favors Naruto could ask for, this one is…

Naruto’s streak of seeking the impossible from people hadn't faded. That's something.

“I know I shouldn't ask you,” Naruto continues. He shifts his weight uncomfortably. “Iruka-sensei would get mad at me if he knew about it, but he's been acting really weird lately. Spacing out, forgetting where he left stuff, sleeping on the futon even though his bed isn’t that far away- one of his students even managed to hit him with a water balloon! And Konohamaru told me the kid just threw it. He didn't even try to be subtle!”

None of that sounds like the man Kakashi knows. Iruka is always present, always meticulous about his work. Kakashi once watched him coherently talk Naruto through the intricate steps to unseal a scroll he'd hidden under a floorboard in the kitchen despite being hammered.

“You're right. That isn't like him,” Kakashi agrees, careful not to agree to anything else. “But why are you asking me? He has a lot of friends, Naruto.”

He has a lot of friends who didn't hurt him like Kakashi did.

Naruto ducks his head. “The last time he really reacted to anything was when I told him I'd seen you at the hospital.”

Kakashi has no place in Iruka’s life; he gave that up, and Naruto knows he did.

Naruto is old enough not to be reliant on his failure of a teacher. 

Kakashi himself has been hurt enough; he doesn't owe either of them anything more than what he's already given.

That isn't how things work, though.

He can still remember how happy Iruka looked after Kakashi kissed him the first time. 

His Sharingan won't let him forget the way Iruka made himself almost at home in Kakashi’s apartment, wandering around it in borrowed clothes and lounging wherever he pleased.

Almost at home.

Almost, almost, almost.

“Is he home now?” Kakashi asks.

Naruto nods quickly. “Yeah! I saw him there before I came here, and he doesn't leave except for work and buying groceries.”

That, too, sounds unlike Iruka.

“You'll go, then?” Naruto asks. He looks so hopeful, it hurts.

“Well, it's not like I have anything pressing to do.” Kakashi shrugs. “It will be better if you make plans to spend some time away from the apartment tonight, though. One way or another, I doubt he’s going to be good company.”

Given Iruka’s temperament, he might shake off the stupor and move directly into anger. Even if he doesn't, he hates Naruto seeing him when he can't smile.

The look Naruto gives him makes Kakashi’s gut churn. “Kiba said everybody could go see the new ninken puppies and stay over after we all go out to eat.” He smiles, but it's not the bright, hopeful expression Kakashi found himself wanting to protect. “Thank you, Kakashi-sensei!”

⁂

Kakashi heads directly to Iruka's apartment. He'd considered waiting, but that's all he’d be doing. Waiting.

He comes to a stop in front of Iruka's door with a growing sense of trepidation. He doesn't want to be here. He's got good memories of this building, this hallway, this doorway.

They got in trouble for leaning against the side of the building, just drunk enough to care more about touching each other than the sound of the landlord calling Iruka’s voice.

He kissed Iruka at the top of that flight of stairs often enough that Iruka would instinctively stop whenever they reached them; the last time he was here, Kakashi walked down them with the bitter taste of failure on his tongue instead of Iruka’s favorite tea.

Iruka laughed so hard one morning he stumbled into that wall; it was the first thing he saw when he left Iruka’s apartment for the last time.

For what he'd thought was the last time.

The plain door that stands between Kakashi and keeping his promise to Naruto looks just like it did the last time Kakashi came here. 

Unbidden but unavoidable, Kakashi’s memory drifts back to that evening.

He'd thought they’d been doing better. Iruka had turned out to be less forthright in a relationship than he is as a friend, but he'd been inviting Kakashi to stay the night.

Whatever had made him so skittish sometimes had seemed to be fading.

Kakashi had returned from a mission late that afternoon and gone directly to Iruka’s apartment after debriefing Tsunade. Iruka had grinned as he opened the door and pulled Kakashi into his apartment with a look on his face that said he wanted to do more than neck on the floor by the kotatsu.

Maybe Iruka had intended to do that. Maybe he hadn't. Kakashi will never know.

He does know how their relationship ended.

He'd taken his sandals off and gone looking for Iruka’s first aid kit while Iruka got the spare clothes Kakashi had started keeping in his apartment.

After the short but intense mission, Kakashi had been looking forward to lying down with Iruka and doing whatever Iruka wanted.

He hadn't realized how much he'd wanted someone to touch him until he'd gotten to know Iruka; he'd held Iruka too hard the first time Iruka casually pulled him into a hug, but Iruka had only squeezed him tighter in return. 

Iruka had continued to put his arms around him, but the general rule was that if Kakashi wanted Iruka to touch him, he had to clean himself up first.

Kakashi had enjoyed testing the limits of that.

He still gets hit with the memory of the way Iruka had laughed and kissed him after Kakashi returned from a mission retrieving a relic for an important ally from a sulfur spring. Kakashi had still smelled awful and been covered in mud from an unexpected detour on the way back with the relic, and Iruka had tried to dodge him but gave up when Kakashi grabbed him from behind and kissed his neck.

Iruka is always put together, always proper, until he isn't.

He would withdraw sometimes without an explanation, but he'd always come back.

Even if he would look at Kakashi like he thought Kakashi was up to something and avoid him for a while, he'd still come back.

Kakashi would wait for him, worried and confused, but Iruka would come back.

The kit hadn't been where Iruka usually kept it and Kakashi’s feet had been bleeding on the floor, so he'd gone looking for it.

As he'd reached the last cabinet without any luck, he'd heard Iruka come back and turned to ask him where the kit was.

Instead of smiling, Iruka had looked at him like Kakashi had been ripping the cabinets of the walls and breaking everything in them.

Iruka had just come back to him, and as he watched Iruka clench his fist around the first aid kit, Kakashi had known he'd lose Iruka again.

Outright hate would have been easier to bear.

Bracing himself- he's here for Naruto, not to beg for the explanation Iruka never gave him- Kakashi knocks on the door.

He hears someone move on the other side.

Kakashi knows Iruka’s tired shuffle. He'd tried to forget it and, until now, thought he had.

He's never had this much difficulty moving on from an ex, but he hadn't wanted any of them that much. If they wanted to leave, they should leave; he'd survive the loss.

Surviving feels like a low bar now.

Kakashi is alive and well, but he still wants Iruka to want to stay.

He still wants to kiss Iruka in this building, in this hallway, against this door.

It's a relief when the door finally opens.

Iruka doesn’t try to hide behind the chain lock. He opens the door wide and his tired eyes meet Kakashi’s as he asks, “Naruto sent you, didn't he?”

Kakashi nods.

“I'm sorry.” Iruka shakes his head. “I knew he wouldn't listen when I told him I was fine. If I'd known he'd bother you, I would have pushed harder. I’ll tell him you came by.”

He looks wearier than Kakashi has ever seen him.

“Or I could come in,” Kakashi says.

“You don't have to-”

“Don't be stubborn. You won't trick Naruto when you look like that, and I’m already here. You may as well invite me in.”

Iruka hesitates, and Kakashi can't help but think this is a fitting change from the last time he was here. There's nothing for Kakashi to be excited about getting from Iruka; there's nothing for Iruka to look forward to getting from Kakashi.

The worst is over. Now they just have to live with the fallout.

“You're right,” Iruka says at last. He steps back and gestures for Kakashi to follow him.

Kakashi does.

⁂

Everything looks like it did the last time Kakashi was here, except there's more evidence of Naruto. He'd been out of the village for much of Kakashi’s relationship with Iruka, and Iruka keeps a clean home.

It's still clean, but Kakashi spots a half-finished cup on the table, a small pile of half-folded laundry on the floor, and a half-dozen other little details that say Iruka is looking after a messy teenager.

Kakashi slips his sandals off, and he knows when he meets Iruka’s eyes that they're both remembering that day.

Iruka gestures at Kakashi again, indicating he should sit. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, but thank you.”

Without anything else to hide behind, Iruka and Kakashi arrange themselves on the zabuton Iruka has too many of.

Kakashi takes the top one, then wishes he hadn't.

He's holding the green one, which he knows Iruka prefers.

Iruka takes the one below it.

The black one is Kakashi’s favorite.

Was his favorite.

They sit down with their backs against the same wall without having to say so, not facing each other but not avoiding each other either.

Whenever Kakashi had come by and needed time for the pressure of the mission to dissipate before he could be good company, Iruka had sat him down like this then gone back to whatever he'd been doing before Kakashi arrived.

Being allowed to sit silently and watch Iruka with a solid wall at his back had been soothing.

Iruka at home makes noise but isn't noisy.

He's in motion but isn't threatening.

“Naruto is worried about you,” Kakashi says when the silence has stretched for too long.

“He shouldn't be.” Iruka sighs. Before Kakashi can try to phrase his concern, Iruka says, “I’m not saying I don't matter. Naruto is a teenager. He should be getting in trouble for doing stupid things with his friends, not worrying about me. If he can't be selfish as a child, when can he?”

The note of annoyance in his voice as he denied Kakashi’s suspicion that he was undervaluing himself was real, and Kakashi feels a rush of relief he doesn't think too hard about.

“Adults can be selfish,” Kakashi points out. Iruka flinches, and Kakashi closes his open eye. He hadn't meant that as a dig. “Guy insists on challenging me whenever it suits him. Kotetsu will eat entire jars of candy in front of people without sharing it. Asuma smokes. Anko… is Anko. Naruto will find something.”

Iruka huffs a laugh. “I suppose he will.” He goes quiet for a moment before he says, “Thank you, Kakashi-san.”

“So we’re really going back to being formal,” Kakashi says, disappointed despite knowing this was inevitable.

Of course they are. That's how Iruka is. Returning to formality is the only way things would go.

“Isn't that what we're supposed to do?” Iruka asks. “We don't have that kind of closeness anymore.”

That isn't the reply Kakashi expected, if only because the reasoning is remarkably cold.

Kakashi opens his eye again. “And? Didn't it matter to us? Am I supposed to pretend I don't know you as well as I do?”

He doesn't point out that Iruka said “ore” a moment ago, which undercuts his point.

“I suppose not.” Iruka looks down at his hands where they're folded in his lap. “You're being thoughtful of me again.”

This time, Kakashi is the one flinching. Other than dodging Iruka’s shifts at the Missions Desk and leaving promptly instead of lingering to flirt when he couldn't dodge him, he hadn't thought his behavior in public had changed much. “I never wanted to be anything else.”

“That isn't- I said that wrong.”

Iruka often put his foot in his mouth when they were together. He did it less with Kakashi, but it still happened. He gets worked up easily and speaks impulsively. His friends enjoy winding him up just to see the chaos he'll accidentally sow.

If it weren't for Iruka’s ease with apologizing and his earnest face, he probably wouldn't be welcome in many places in the village.

Without him, Kakashi’s apartment is too quiet. His life is less full.

He's lonely.

Kakashi turns his head to study Iruka. “What did you mean to say?”

Iruka looks up at the ceiling. “Do you know what happens in a few days?”

Kakashi swallows. The date is engraved in his memory. “It will be one year since we broke up.”

“Naruto wasn't here when the day that would have been our one year anniversary came and went, so he doesn't know this is just how I am with memories. You can reassure him that I’m just being sentimental; he’ll understand if you tell him. It’s just a day, right?”

He chuckles, hiding the implication that their would-have-been anniversary had been so meaningful it could shake him like this. 

It hadn't occurred to Kakashi that Iruka would be this upset about the end of their relationship, but it should have.

That's the kind of man Iruka is. He’s easily moved by the smallest things; it's part of what caught Kakashi’s eye. Iruka sees worth everywhere. He looked at Kakashi and saw someone he could love.

Why that didn't last, Kakashi doesn't know.

Iruka turns his head to look at him.

Kakashi has always been fond of Iruka's face. He’s expressive enough for three people; reading him is easy. His eyes are lively. His mouth moves easily between cheek-splitting smiles and severe frowns. He shaves regularly, which keeps his blushes unhidden and his cheeks soft like he's asking to be kissed.

But maybe Kakashi is just remembering how easy it had been to make Iruka smile by kissing him.

“That's not all it is,” Kakashi tells him quietly. “Not to me. And not to you either.”

Kakashi had tried to be out of the village for it, after all. If his mission hadn't ended far faster than he'd thought, he would have been.

“It really isn't, is it?” Iruka sighs. “I really am sorry you had to come here.”

“It isn't your fault.”

Iruka quirks a brow at him. “Isn't it?

Kakashi shakes his head.

“So you've convinced yourself you did something wrong. Maybe it isn't so bad that Naruto sent you here.” Iruka’s expression hardens. “You were right to end things. All I did was hurt you.”

Kakashi doesn't argue that Iruka hurt him; they both know he did. But Iruka isn't completely right. “You made me happy, too.”

“At least there's that. I was lucky to be part of your life, but I wasted that luck, didn't I?” Iruka’s voice catches, and Kakashi clenches his fists until Iruka says evenly, “Sorry, Kakashi. I'm being selfish again.”

The absence of the honorific is a relief.

Kakashi could have touched his face and turned that guilt aside if they'd talked like this before they broke up.

They didn't, but at least Kakashi has had enough time to reflect that he can guess what happened.

“You didn't trust me, did you?” he asks. “You were fine with me around Naruto and when I got back from missions. But as a person, you didn't believe in me. Right?”

It isn't a question, and Iruka’s only answer is an unsteady breath.

“Well, it can't be helped. I'm not a very trustworthy person, after all.”

Kakashi’s track record with personal relationships isn't good. He can't blame Iruka for being wary.

He isn't prepared for Iruka to hit his shoulder.

“Ow!”

“I knew you were making this your fault,” Iruka chastises. “Stop blaming yourself for everything.”

“Then what should I blame, Iruka?”

Kakashi doesn't want to know. He wants to leave, to get out of this place he used to love and let Iruka become another ghost.

He doesn't move.

“Me.” Iruka gives him a rueful smile. “I'd like to blame Mizuki, but really, I’m the one who chose to deal with things the way I did.”

Kakashi searches Iruka’s face for an explanation but finds none. “I don't understand.”

Iruka lays the side of his head on the wall but doesn't look away. “By the time he tried to kill Naruto, I’d been friends with Mizuki for most of my life. He came looking for me when I was missing my parents. He helped me become a teacher. For twelve years, he was my closest friend. I thought he felt the same way.” He shakes his head, his eyes closing for a moment before he stills and looks back at Kakashi. “I didn't see how much he hated Naruto, and Naruto almost died because of it.”

Given the Nine Tails’ seal was never absolute, Iruka’s life was in far more jeopardy, but there's no point in saying so.

“So you saw Mizuki every time you looked at me,” Kakashi supplies instead. “You thought I might be deceiving you.”

“I didn't.”

“Then what?”

“I wasn't thinking at all.” Iruka looks down at his lap, where his hands are folded together. “I'm not very good at facing things that hurt. That night hurts a lot.” Without looking up, Iruka makes a sound that wants to be a laugh but falls short. “I call Naruto an idiot when he questions whether I really want him to be my family, but really, I’m just as bad. Every time he asks, part of me thinks he's actually saying he regrets being adopted. I know he isn't, but maybe I'm wrong.”

Sasuke's defection was a betrayal, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. He'd openly told them all that he had one goal, and he'd left when he decided he had to.

If Sasuke had spent over a decade pretending to be happy on Team 7, finding out it was a lie would have been far worse.

“You should have told me that,” Kakashi says slowly. “I would have helped if I could.”

“Of course you would have. That's the problem.”

It shouldn't hurt to hear Iruka say that, but being in Iruka’s apartment, sitting so close to him when Kakashi hasn't gotten over him, was already painful. Hearing Iruka dismiss him so easily feels like stepping on a broken leg.

“Your help is a good thing,” Iruka says gently. He's facing Kakashi again now, and at Kakashi’s distrustful look, he shakes his head. “I should have asked for it. I wanted to ask for it.”

“So why didn't you?”

“I didn't want you to know. You already carry too much, Kakashi; I didn't want to add to the burden.”

Kakashi clenches his jaw, swallowing the urge to tell Iruka that by saying nothing, he added far more. “Making you happy wouldn’t have been a burden.”

“When you say things like that, it reminds me why I was so set on not telling you. I wanted to be the one making you happy, not the other way around.” He tries and fails at a smile. “The next person will be better at that than I was.”

Kakashi shrugs. “If you say so.”

“There's going to be a next one, Kakashi.”

“You can't know that.”

“I can. You're bad at being alone. Either you'll find someone or someone will come find you.”

Kakashi lets himself look away for a moment before he says, “Someone good already did.”

The look of false happiness on Iruka’s face is almost fast enough to hide the flash of despair. “You see? I told you there would be a next one! Don't be such a pessimist.”

He's trying so hard to look happy it makes Kakashi want to shake him.

“That isn't it,” Kakashi corrects him. “I was talking about you.”

“Kakashi-”

“I broke up with you because you kept looking at me like I was hurting you,” he continues over Iruka. “I was happy the rest of the time. Now that I know what the problem is, we could work on it.”

Iruka looks away sharply. “Please don't.”

“I tried to find someone else, but none of them made me happy like you did. Not even close. I'll let it go if you say I have to, but if there's a chance for us-”

In his lap, Iruka’s knuckles are white from clenching his hands. “You shouldn't talk like this is simple."

“Aren't you the one who told me I keep too much inside?” Kakashi shrugs. “I don't mind getting hurt. Now that I know I’m not what's hurting you, I could bear those looks.”

He'd still hate them, but Iruka would be back in his life.

Iruka clenches his fists even harder. “That's not good enough. I don't want you to have to bear me, and I want more than to be borne.”

“Ah, so it's still a no.” Kakashi feels himself deflate. He got carried away- they aren't trying to diagnose the problem so they can fix it. This is an autopsy. “Well, if you don't want it, you don't want it. I did have to try.”

“Why?” Iruka’s voice gives out in the middle. He clears his throat and asks again. “Why did you have to try?”

Kakashi shakes his head. “Because I still want to be with you, and if that won't happen, then I’d at least get to hear you say we’re finished. You only said you understood when I said we should stop. It left the door open, you know?”

He laughs a little as he says it so Iruka won't see that Kakashi doesn't want to move on.

He’ll pretend to be okay so Iruka will find someone else, but Kakashi wasn't lying. He's never been happy with someone like he was with Iruka.

Iruka unclenches his fists and slowly reaches out and lays his hand on Kakashi’s thigh.

Kakashi draws a sharp breath in through his nose.

“Iruka-”

“What should I do?” Iruka asks, eyes closed and face scrunched up in confusion.

Kakashi frowns. “About what?”

“You. I don't know what the right thing to do is.” Iruka squeezes Kakashi’s leg. “You were supposed to move on, Kakashi.”

“I suppose that's true. That wouldn't be like me, though, would it?” Tentatively, Kakashi adds, “Besides, you can still move on. That would be good, right?”

Not for Kakashi, but he's used to getting left behind. At least this time no one is dying.

“That's what I've been telling myself. I've been broken up with before. But you know, I was really happy with you.” Iruka coughs wetly and rubs his forehead with his free hand. “I was really, really happy.”

“So why didn't you argue with me?” Kakashi asks. “Why did you just let me leave like that?”

Iruka’s throat bobs as he swallows. “Because I saw your face, too. Every time I hurt you, I could see it. You wanted to go, and I didn't want to make you unhappy anymore.”

Kakashi tentatively lays one of his hands over the one Iruka has on Kakashi’s leg. 

“We’re ninjas, Iruka. We get hurt. I've endured worse.”

“That isn't the point.”

“Then what is?”

Iruka lets out a long, shaky breath. “I told you before, didn't I? I want better for us than enduring and being endured.”

His hand is hot on Kakashi’s leg, and Kakashi remembers coming back to him in the middle of the night after long missions.

He hadn't meant to do it the first time. Spoiled by having Iruka’s company before he left, the idea of returning to an empty apartment after spending two days in an empty, desolate part of the country waiting for a missing-nin turned assassin for hire had been unbearable, and Iruka had invited him to come by anytime. That had been enough to convince Kakashi it would be all right to drop in. He'd already known where to find Iruka’s spare key, so he'd unlocked the door, replaced the key, and slipped inside, intending to make himself comfortable on Iruka’s futon for a while.

Out of habit, though, he'd gone looking for Iruka.

He'd found him in bed, sleeping peacefully.

Lit by the soft light of a waning moon, Iruka had looked so inviting that for a moment, Kakashi had considered lying down on top of the blankets just to be near him for a little while.

He'd backed away quickly, startled by how much he'd wanted that, but he'd been stopped by the sound of his name.

“Aren't you going to come here?” Iruka had continued without moving. “It’s too cold for you to sleep on the futon.”

Kakashi had gone over. He'd taken his jacket off when prompted, and when Iruka pulled the covers down, Kakashi had gotten in with him.

“This is a standing invitation,” Iruka had told him as Kakashi covered them up. “If you want to come here to sleep, I want you to come here.” Softer, he'd added, “I get lonely when you aren't around.”

In hindsight, Iruka hadn't been shivering because Kakashi was cold from being outside. The mission had taken longer than Kakashi had been told, so Iruka had been waiting for a day and a half longer than he'd thought he would be.

Iruka had snuggled up with him every time Kakashi returned. Even during the day, if Kakashi sought him out, Iruka would take a moment to touch his arm or kiss his forehead.

Just getting into bed with Iruka and wrapping himself up in sheets that smelled like him had been a relief.

He hasn't slept well since he gave that up.

“I deserve a lot of things,” Kakashi says. “I’m lucky not to have been killed by most of them.”

Iruka tilts his head so it bumps Kakashi's. He used to do that all the time. “You know, I'm doing a different kind of training now.”

Thrown by the topic change, Kakashi asks, “You are?” 

“I am. I'm trying to teach myself to see the person I’m talking to. For example- if Naruto were unhappy living with me, I'd know because he loves being here. He calls this apartment his home. And if that changes, I’ll know because he's a terrible liar.”

Kakashi squeezes Iruka’s hand. “That's good training. The next person you love will be lucky.”

“Thank you. Loving someone else, though… I don't want to do that.”

Kakashi squeezes Iruka’s hand harder. “I’m not alone, then?”

Iruka lets out a long, slow breath. “I don't want us to be over, but I'd rather keep missing you than go back to hurting you.”

“That's it?” Kakashi asks, turning his head so their foreheads are pressed together. It makes Kakashi’s gut ache. “I really lost you forever?”

“Don't talk like you're the only one who lost something. I still buy those unpalatable energy bars you like if I'm not paying attention. I have to push them on my students.” Iruka’s breath is warm. “This isn't a big apartment, but it feels massive without you taking up space in it.”

“You have Naruto.”

“That's not the same. Besides, he's gone more often than he isn't. It felt like he'd be in my class forever, but since he graduated, it's like he's growing up twice as fast.”

Ah.

“You're lonely.”

“Of course I am.” A beat of silence passes. “Are you?”

Kakashi shrugs. “Maybe.”

Iruka lets that go unchallenged. “If I say I can't be with you again, will this be the last time I see you?”

Kakashi closes his eyes. “Maybe.”

The hand on his leg shifts. Kakashi expects it to disappear, but Iruka only moves it closer to Kakashi’s hip.

“You're taking care of yourself, right?”

Kakashi doesn't answer.

“I'm the same person I was before,” Iruka says, “but I want to do better.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don't know.” Iruka strokes the top of Kakashi’s thigh with his thumb. “Dating other people blew up in my face every time.”

Kakashi heard about two people Iruka went out with; “blew up” sounds like an accurate description of how those relationships ended. He doesn't know what to say about it, though, so he doesn't say anything.

Iruka sighs. “I want to kiss you.”

Kakashi’s heart pounds against his ribs.

“Can I?” Iruka asks. His voice is little more than a breath. “Can I kiss you again?”

Kakashi nods, and Iruka makes a soft, relieved sound as he rolls Kakashi’s mask down.

Like the first time they kissed, Kakashi doesn't want to let go of him.

Iruka starts to pull away, so Kakashi follows him. If this is the end, though, he wants as many as he can get.

His heart pounds even harder when Iruka stops moving away and comes close again.

Kissing him is easy.

Giving it up will hurt, but for now, Iruka is cradling Kakashi’s face in his hands and Kakashi is doing the same to him.

“I'm the same,” Iruka says again, resting his index finger on Kakashi’s lips.

“And?”

“What do you want from this?”

Kakashi tries to dodge around Iruka’s finger, but Iruka doesn't let him.

“I want you,” Kakashi makes himself say. “Whatever you'll let me have before I lose you the rest of the way- I want all of that.”

“Do we have to lose each other?”

“Do you have an alternative?”

“Maybe.”

More than a hundred of Kakashi’s dreams have gone something like this.

“I'm not working this hard for a hypothetical person,” Iruka continues. “Let me try again?”

He drops his finger and kisses Kakashi, and Kakashi kisses him too hard.

“Let me do it right,” Iruka breathes. “Let me make you happy.” He moves his head so Kakashi can't kiss him. “I can do it this time.”

“I know.” Kakashi’s voice is hoarse. “I know you can.”

Without a word, Iruka kisses him again, and Kakashi isn't kissing too hard anymore.

The first time around, Kakashi had tried to get as many kisses as he could. Before school, at lunch, after school, while they did the dishes, while they watched TV, when he got back from a mission, when Iruka was grading grading papers and looking cute… Kakashi had tried not to seem needy, but Iruka kept leaning into Kakashi’s hand on his cheek and putting his own on Kakashi’s face.

This time, Kakashi has a year of kisses he knows he missed and has to make up for.

Iruka bites Kakashi’s lip, and Kakashi shivers.

Kakashi pulls Iruka closer by the front of his shirt, and Iruka lets himself be pulled.

Without either of them stopping to speak, Iruka keeps getting closer after Kakashi stops pulling, kissing Kakashi and stroking his face, until he's so close he just climbs into Kakashi’s lap. He settles himself there as Kakashi drops one hand to rest it on Iruka’s hip.

Stretching his head up for another kiss, Kakashi doesn't have any complaints.

Ignoring the request, Iruka strokes a hand through Kakashi’s hair. “Still soft,” he says quietly.

Being touched like this again feels so good, Kakashi has to bite his cheek to stop himself from saying something embarrassing.

This is more than a memory. Iruka is solid and warm, and when Kakashi gently bumps his forehead on Iruka's cheek, Iruka hums to himself.

“Missed me?” Kakashi asks, just to rile him a little. 

“You weren't cooking in the kitchen,” Iruka says, sitting back and cutting off Kakashi’s plans to start catching up on kisses. “You weren't needling me into showering with you. You weren't reading a book and holding my hand. You weren't in bed sleeping off a mission or eating one of those disgusting energy bars over a plate. Yes, I missed you. The only thing I didn't miss was seeing you get hurt. So don't think I didn't notice. Through everything, you were there, always the better memory.”

Somehow, Kakashi had forgotten that Iruka can have his entire side of a conversation in one breath.

Rather than admit he just wanted to hear Iruka say he’d felt Kakashi’s absence, Kakashi kisses him.

He wants to pull Iruka so close Kakashi’s heart won't break anymore.

Even if it won't work, it's worth a try.

⁂

“Will you promise me something?” Iruka asks.

They're still on the floor, but their shirts are somewhere else in the room, the rest of Iruka’s clothes are probably near them, and Kakashi’s are barely hanging around one ankle. The pillow could be anywhere.

Iruka is sitting sideways on Kakashi’s lap, leaning sleepily against Kakashi's chest.

Kakashi presses a soft kiss to Iruka's shoulder. “What kind of promise?”

“I need two minutes.”

Not following- having his arms around Iruka again is distracting- Kakashi frowns. “To think of the promise?”

Iruka shakes his head, but his voice is fond as he says, “I forgot how distractible you can be. Wrinkle your nose if you want to; you're just as cute.”

He pats Kakashi’s chest, leaving his palm flat against Kakashi’s breastbone.

“And the promise you need from me?” Kakashi prompts.

Iruka tenses. “I need you to give me two minutes sometimes.”

Kakashi frowns, the comfort of Iruka being his again disrupted by Iruka himself. “Why two minutes?”

“I told you, didn't I? The problems from before haven't disappeared. I really have been making progress, but I need you to accept that the first two minutes are my problem, not yours.”

“Two minutes,” Kakashi echoes. “I can give you that. You can have three if you want.”

“I'm being serious, Kakashi,” Iruka says tightly. “I might not need them every time, but without that buffer, we’ll end up in the same place we did last time.”

Kakashi puts his hands on Iruka’s forearms. “I'm being serious, too. I can wait for you.”

He gives Iruka a gentle tug, and after a moment, Iruka relaxes into him.

Iruka noses at Kakashi's cheek.

“Hey.”

Kakashi hums questioningly.

“I'm glad you came here.”

Smiling, Kakashi nods, rubbing his face on Iruka’s. “Naruto is never going to let this go.”

“He could be prouder of worse things.”

They're going to get hurt again, but that's somewhere in the uncertain future. Kakashi is more interested in this moment, where he can blow a raspberry on Iruka’s neck and laugh as Iruka yelps in surprise.

Whatever comes next, Kakashi will always have this much.

**Author's Note:**

> You can say hi on [tumblr](https://asotin.tumblr.com) if you'd like to! I'm currently pushing an agenda of quotes from Schitt's Creek matching characters from Naruto


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